


Speaking Draco

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6029011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco communicates clearly, as long as you speak his language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speaking Draco

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for HD_fluff's prompt #121: I love you x 3.
> 
> **Betas:** Sevfan and Emynn.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Speaking Draco

~

Harry stared around, amazed. “Wow,” he breathed. “The only place I’ve ever been outside England is Scotland. Paris is beautiful.”

Draco smirked. “I know.” He hummed, pulling Harry towards a small cafe. “Come on, we need to get to this patisserie before they’re out of their raspberry croissants. Everyone who’s anyone knows they’re the best in the city. They run out fast.”

Minutes later, raspberry croissants and coffees in hand, they settled on a park bench to eat. 

“This is great,” Harry mumbled around his pastry. “Thank you for bringing me here.” 

Draco shrugged. “It’s one of my favourite cities,” he said. “When you said you’d never been, I had to bring you.”

Harry smiled. “Well, you didn’t _have_ to.”

Draco snorted. “Of course I did. It was clear no one else was going to, and we can’t have one of the most famous wizards in the world be so—”

“So what?” Harry asked, dusting croissant crumbs off his hands. When he sipped his coffee, he closed his eyes in bliss. “Damn. Do you think they’d deliver this to us every morning by Floo?”

“For the right price I’m sure something could be arranged.” Leaning back, Draco crossed his legs, looking the epitome of lean elegance. 

“So what is it you’re saving me from being, then?” Harry asked, nudging Draco’s shoulder with his own. He grinned, knowing he was annoying his lover. “Come on, tell me.”

Draco muttered something liquid and incomprehensible under his breath. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What was that? In addition to never having been anywhere, I don’t speak any foreign languages.”

“No?” Draco hummed. “It doesn’t translate.” 

Rolling his eyes, Harry finished off his coffee before standing up and pulling Draco to his feet. “You are such an arse. Come on, I want to see the sights.” 

Draco smiled. “C’est toi le connard, mais je t’aime pareil.”*

Harry frowned. “What?”

“This way to the tourist traps,” Draco said brightly.

Harry narrowed his eyes. Clearly he was going to have to find a translation spell. 

~

Austria was beautiful as well, especially the countryside, where Draco insisted they go for a picnic. They set up on a blanket, Draco propped up on his elbows as he surveyed the scenery.

“I’ll admit, I thought I’d be bored within the first few days of this holiday,” Harry sighed as he lay back on the grass. “But this has been anything but boring.”

“That’s because you’re with me,” Draco said. “Nothing involving me is boring.”

Harry grinned. “That’s for damn sure. I thought I was going to tear my hair out the first case we worked together.”

Draco snorted. “I’ll have you know you were just as aggravating.” He ran what could only be described as a proprietary glance over Harry. “Still, I suppose it was worth it.”

“I’ll say.” Reaching up, Harry pulled Draco towards him until their lips met in a slow kiss. 

As the kiss escalated, Draco sighed into Harry’s mouth, settling atop him. “We’re in public,” he reminded Harry when Harry reached for the buttons of his shirt.

“Privacy Charm,” Harry muttered. “Now come here.”

“Eager, are we?” Draco wriggled a bit, managing to slip out of the rest of his clothes.

“Being on holiday makes me horny,” Harry said, cupping Draco’s arse with his hands. “I’d have thought you’d appreciate that.”

Draco gasped as Harry rolled him over onto his back. “I’m beginning to see the appeal about now,” he whispered as Harry shed his clothes and straddled him. “What are we doing?”

“Having sex,” Harry informed him. “Surely you recognise this activity.” He grinned. “Do we need to do it often? Several times a day isn’t enough?” 

“Prat.” Draco stroked Harry’s flank. “I mean, what do you want _right now_.”

Leaning down, Harry brushed a kiss across Draco’s mouth. “To ride you.”

“Fuck,” Draco breathed. “Yes.” 

Harry conjured some lube, slicking Draco’s cock and soon he was sliding up and down on Draco, arching his back and moaning as he did so. Balancing himself by placing a hand on Draco’s chest, Harry watched as Draco came apart beneath him, thrusting up to meet every one of Harry’s downward slides.

Draco was muttering incomprehensible words again, this time in a guttural sounding language. “Ich liebe dich.”**

Speeding up, Harry lost track of his own language as pleasure spiralled through him. 

With a shout, Draco clutched Harry’s hips and came, followed moments later by Harry, who collapsed on top of him panting. 

When he caught his breath, Harry raised his head, staring into Draco’s face. “What was that you said?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “When exactly do you mean?” 

“When we were having sex,” Harry said. “You said something in another language.”

“Did I?” Draco hummed. “How odd. I can’t recall what I may have said. You know how that is.” He huffed. “Now will you get off me? I need to breathe.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry did, and as they got dressed he vowed to get that translation spell.

~

“There’s no general translation spell,” Hermione said. “You have to know what language is being spoken and then use a specific spell to translate it.” She frowned. “Did you ask the person to translate?”

Harry coughed. “There was no time.”

“Ah.” Hermione chewed her bottom lip. “What language was it?”

“One was French, I’m sure of it, and the other was Austrian? Is there an Austrian language?”

Hermione nodded. “It was probably German if they were speaking it in Austria.” Standing up, she walked over to her bookcase. “I think there’s a European languages translation spell book here somewhere—”

There was a knock. “Granger, do you know where—? Ah, I should have known this is where you’d be,” Draco said as he opened the door to Hermione’s office. “What’s going on?”

Harry winced. “Oh, hey, Draco. Do we have a case?” Smiling weakly at Hermione, Harry moved towards the door. “I’ll catch up with you later, all right, Hermione?”

Hermione frowned. “But I thought you wanted me to—”

“Nope. I’m good,” Harry interrupted. “Thanks!” 

“Stop.” Draco leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “You are crap at lying. What’s going on?”

Harry sighed. “It’s all your fault.”

“I’m sure you think so,” Draco replied. “What is it I’m supposed to have done now?”

“When we were away you kept—” Harry glanced at Hermione before lowering his voice, “saying things in other languages! I just thought maybe Hermione could help me translate what you said—”

“Wait. _Draco_ is the one who kept speaking to you in French and German?” Hermione asked. She looked at Draco accusingly. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing that warrants an inquisition,” Draco snapped.

Before Hermione could respond to that, Harry held up a hand. “Never mind, Hermione. I’ll figure it out on my own.” 

“Are you sure?” Hermione crossed her arms. “There are some nasty French hexes that—”

Harry groaned. “He wasn’t trying to hex me!”

“How do you know?” Hermione demanded.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Because if I had been trying to hex him, he wouldn’t be here. He’d be in hospital.”

“And you’d be in Azkaban!” 

“Enough!” Harry cried. This had clearly been a bad idea. He turned to Hermione. “Draco is not trying to hurt me, Hermione.” 

“Not unless you ask nicely,” Draco muttered.

Harry shot him an irritated look. “And Hermione’s just trying to help me, since you wouldn’t tell me what you said, Draco.” 

Draco shook his head. “If you couldn’t guess what I meant from the context, Potter, then you’re hopeless.” He inclined his head towards Hermione, his expression icy. “Always a pleasure, Granger.” And with that, he spun on his heel and left.

“Well, damn,” Harry groaned once Draco was gone. “I think I just fucked things up.” 

Hermione sighed. “This thing with Draco…It’s serious, isn’t it?” 

“Yes.” Harry nodded. “I’m pretty sure he’s the one.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You could be nicer to him, you know.” 

“I could,” Hermione agreed. Walking over to Harry, she drew him into a hug. “You’re sure about this?” she asked softly. “About him?”

“Yeah,” he whispered into her hair.

“All right.” Drawing back, she searched his face, then nodded. “All right.” She smiled. “I promise to be better in future.” 

Harry blinked. “You do?” 

“Yes.” She laughed at the look on his face. “What? I can be pleasant when motivated. Now what are you waiting for? Go find him.” 

“You…I…Thanks.” After one more quick hug, Harry started for the door. He hesitated before opening it. “Erm, and let’s leave the language thing alone for now, yeah?”

Hermione nodded. “Good idea. And, Harry? Good luck.”

~

“Honestly.” Draco huffed. “It’s not as if I spoke no English while we were away!” His face started to turn pink. “I can’t believe you went to Granger for help!”

“I always go to Hermione for help.” Harry shrugged. “Sorry, but I’ve been doing that since I was twelve, why would I stop now?”

Draco shook his head. “I suppose it’s pointless for me to get upset about it since you clearly have no plans to change that.”

“Are you asking me to?” Harry said, tone soft.

There was no hesitation. “No,” Draco snapped. “Friends are precious. I would never stand between you and yours.” He rolled his eyes. “Even if they do hate me.”

“They don’t.” Harry pulled Draco close. “They just need to get a chance to know you.” Smiling as Draco relaxed against him, he whispered, “So now that the argument is over, can we have make up sex?” 

“One-track mind,” Draco muttered, but he wound his arms around Harry with clear eagerness.

Harry grinned as he backed Draco towards the bedroom. “Good thing your mind is almost always on the same track as mine,” he said in between kisses.

They tumbled into bed, hands and mouths everywhere, and soon, Draco’s legs were around Harry’s neck and Harry was balls deep in Draco, fucking him with slow, steady strokes as Draco clutched the headboard and arched his back to pull Harry deeper on each thrust. 

As always, Draco was vocal, muttering filthy things as Harry rode him hard. Some of the words he caught, but some were incomprehensible, if beautiful.

“Ti adoro,” Draco gasped as he moved. “Ti amo tantissimo.”*** 

Harry closed his eyes and clutched Draco’s hips as he continued to thrust. Something about the tone of Draco’s voice— 

Leaning down, he kissed Draco, then buried his face in Draco’s neck. “I love you, too,” he mouthed against Draco’s neck as he fucked him. “So much.”

Draco simply couldn’t have heard, Harry was sure, and yet—

“What?” Draco’s voice cracked on the word.

Still moving inside Draco, Harry raised his head. Their eyes locked. “You heard that?”

Draco squeezed his muscles around Harry’s cock, and Harry’s every thought dissolved. Draco licked his lips. “Yes,” he whispered, eyes swirling with emotions Harry barely dared name. “Me, too.” He closed his eyes. “Now fuck me. Come on.” 

Harry could only obey, shoving himself as deeply as possible into Draco, his rhythm going ragged as pleasure unwound inside him. He managed a couple more strokes before arching his back and emptying himself into Draco with a low cry.

He felt Draco shift, move his hand so that he could stroke himself and within moments, he, too, was coming, spurting onto Harry’s stomach. 

They were a mess, but Harry felt like he was soaring. “Is that what you’ve been saying in all those other languages?” he murmured softly into Draco’s hair. “That you love me?”

Draco huffed. “Now was that so difficult? Honestly, Potter. I couldn’t have been more obvious.” 

“Right. Of course. Sorry.” Smiling, Harry cleaned them up, then, after Summoning the covers, drew Draco into his arms. It was taking time, but he knew he’d eventually master the language of Draco.

~

*It’s you that’s the arse, but I love you anyway.

**I love you.

***I adore you. I love you so much.


End file.
